Appreciating the Brent

Without getting too personal or too mushy, I figure the best way to spend this Houston-bound afternoon flight is to reflect on the very reason I’m making this trip: My brother.


This year for my birthday, my brother sent me the following items.

1. 5 lbs of Haribos (gummy bears).
2. Moleskine notebook.
3. DVD copy of The Room.
4. Pair of silvered aviator sunglasses.
5. Texas flag.
6. Gundam Heavyarms scale model, direct from Japan.

I’m not sure whether this list says more about my brother’s creativity or my completely eclectic, crazy personality. Together, they’re the best birthday package I’ve received in a long, long time.

Look. Apparently, siblings can be a complicated thing. I have sweet, innocuous, reasonable friends who constantly battle with their blood relatives. Some of these otherwise reasonable friends of mine won’t even speak to their respective brothers and sisters. More commonly, though, there’s some rift—a lack of common ground or an age difference or an insurmountable distance—that keeps them from enjoying what might otherwise be a very rewarding relationship with the closest thing to a clone that nature and nurture have to offer.

With that in mind, I’m practically the luckiest guy in the world when it comes to siblings. I only have one. We’re separated by an age difference of two years. We see each other at least twice a year. And by some divine providence, we have the same warped, meme-tastic sense of humor, which is something I demand from each and every person I chose to bring into my closest inner circle.

We love YouTube Poop, /b/ memes, the weirdest shit that Adult Swim has to offer, Bret Easton Ellis, cheesy videos by Paul Wall, the collective nothingness of Charles Bukowski, jaded liberalism, trolling our friends, TV shows that haven’t aired since 1998, professional wrestling and, above all, our mother.

Aww.

Now, it would be unfair to keep going without first mentioning that we do have our differences, too. These are things we have learned to set aside in light of everything we have in common. He drinks beer and I chug it, but we both can sit down to a beer and laugh about the latest stupid thing we read on the Internet. That’s what being brothers is all about, I think. I’m hardly the expert on people.

I’m lucky to have a brother like Brent. I’m also incredibly proud that he’s been able to excel at everything he’s put his mind toward: His degree in literature, his relationship with Dina, his out-of-college job, and just about everything but keeping his room clean. Heheh, lol.

So congratulations on making it this far. I'll see you in three weeks.